


Needful Things

by Lumelle



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 06:38:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5324237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumelle/pseuds/Lumelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sidney isn't happy about how the recent games have gone. Geno clearly needs to have a serious conversation with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Needful Things

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the 28th of November 2015 match against Oilers, in which Geno had two absolutely beautiful goals but they lost in the shootouts.
> 
> Thank you to the people who looked this over for me, and curses for dragging me into this fandom (even if it wasn't exactly kicking and screaming). :P

"So." Geno paused at Sid's side. He looked exhausted, both physically and mentally, not that it was very surprising. A long match and the media could do that. "That's done, then."

"Right." Sid sighed, running a hand over his hair. It was slightly tousled, and a part of Geno almost wanted to reach over and touch it. "Guess we couldn't do it, huh."

"Not that bad." Geno shook his head. It hadn't been good, no, but really it could have been worse. "Just not a happy birthday for Flower."

Sid winced at the comment, then forced some semblance of a smile onto his face. "Well, he won't blame you, that's for sure. Those were really amazing goals."

Geno paused. He had to admit his English skills still weren't exactly stellar, but he knew Sid well enough that he had a feeling the true message wasn't in what was said as much as it was in what wasn't. "Won't blame you, either."

Sid grimaced, a sure sign Geno had read him right. "Well, maybe he should."

"You're not only player on team, Sid. Can't do all alone."

"You seemed to be doing well with that." There was a hint of bitterness to Sid's voice, almost, but Geno trusted it wasn't directed at him.

"I got lucky. You didn't get the chance." He shook his head. "You know I don't do well on backhand."

"Lucky? Geno, those shots were incredible! Me, I accomplished precisely nothing. Just a stupid penalty on overtime."

"Didn't lose in overtime." That was what mattered, right? So Sid couldn't blame himself there.

"Didn't win in overtime, either."

"Told you, it's not just Sid. Other players there, too." He paused. "Besides, you're hurt."

"I'm not hurt." Sid took on a slightly defiant expression. "I'm fine. I got cleared to play, didn't I?"

"You are stubborn." Geno sighed. "Will always play, always, if not forbidden."

"I couldn't just abandon you all simply because I might be a little sore!"

"Didn't do much good, now did it?" This time, Geno was the one who flinched as he saw Sid's expression. That had been a step too far. "Sorry. I'm sorry."

"No, it's a fair point." And again blaming himself, always blaming himself when they didn't win. "You didn't really need me on ice, did you."

"Will always need Sid." That much, at least, was true. "Team needs you on ice. I need you." He didn't clarify that statement, didn't think he needed to.

"Then why are you seemingly arguing I shouldn't be playing?"

"Because we need you." He finally touched Sid, a hand on his shoulder, and it almost seemed to make Sid deflate. "Not just this game. Next game, game after that, every game. Need you for playoffs, too. Can't have if Sid gets broken."

"I'm not broken, Geno. I'm really, actually fine."

"Yes, you are. And I'm glad." He paused, trying to find the right words to say what he meant. "Every game important, is true. But you more important than any game. If Sid is hurt, should take break, should get better. Team can play without you for one game, can't play without forever." The mere idea of that — of hockey without Sid — made him ache inside, made him sting with fear and fury and pain all. That wasn't something he could allow, not ever.

"Geno." For a moment, Sid seemed to lean towards him, before he stood up straighter. "Right. You're right, of course. And I promise, I wouldn't have played tonight if I hadn't been sure I was fine. I don't want to get broken, either."

"Good." He gave Sid's shoulder a gentle squeeze before he let go. "Next game we win, yes? Will not be just my goals for us then." He grinned, aiming for teasing, and felt satisfied when Sid grinned back, just a little. Sure, it was still tainted with exhaustion and disappointment and all the other things Geno felt right now, too, but it was a grin, and he'd take what he could get.

"Right. Can't let you do everything while I'm busy feeling sorry for myself." Sid grabbed the hand Geno had let fall from his shoulder, squeezing it in turn. His touch seemed to almost burn Geno's skin. "Next game we'll all do better."

"Next game." Because there would be a next game, there always would be a next game, and Sid would get on the ice again and again and he would shine just like a star like he was supposed to.

As long as that was true, Geno could keep giving his everything.


End file.
